


Questions, Questions, Questions.

by GalaxyKoi



Series: Iotath's Unrest [Non-Canon] Side Stories [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Iotath's Unrest
Genre: 1 out of 60 hp squad where you at, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Could Reasonably Be Canon For Once, F/M, Nightmares, also this fic is more like angst then small comfort followed by more angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 01:30:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21110480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyKoi/pseuds/GalaxyKoi
Summary: Cynthia gets caught in a nightmare and finds herself fourteen years in the past. A moment of denial is broken by interrogation.





	Questions, Questions, Questions.

**Author's Note:**

> [Beta Reader: northern--song (Tumblr)]

Everything already felt wrong when Cynthia found herself waking up in her dream. As she opened her eyes, she realized where she was quickly; she was in one of the cots in the temple near Vunedar. She was about to make a comment in her head how she knew this was her mother’s home, but as she put a hand to her head, she realized her hair was in a bun.

Cynthia rarely put her hair in a bun, at least recently. In her youth, she always had it in a bun since it helped keep her wavy mess of hair out of her face. She couldn’t even really remember the last time she had worn her hair in a bun. Perhaps when she first met the crew? But that had been a few months ago.Recently, her hair rested above her shoulders, curling outward dramatically. 

But this wasn’t supposed to be a moment from the relative present. She knew exactly when this was, down to the day. This was her few moments of denial that she had after the Living Plague broke out. 

The dream lured her back and reminded her what she was thinking about when this dream’s source memory had happened. Ironically, the younger Cynthia had thought about how the Living Plague’s breakout in Kelemvor’s Snout had all been a terrible nightmare that included the days before it. How she wanted to believe that Mordecai would walk into the room and comfort her. How Mordecai was still alive and hadn’t sacrificed himself for her. She wanted her father and mentor to just still be okay. 

Instead, Jinri walked into the room and gasped quietly when the divine sorceress noticed the terrified Aasimar awake. 

“She’s awake.” Jinri spoke in her aged voice quietly, and then rushed over to Cynthia. “Darling,” Jinri had said in relief when she was next to Cynthia, “thank Sune you’re alive.”

Cynthia felt forced to reply the same way she had fourteen years ago, “Where is Mordecai?”

Jinri paused for a moment as she looked diagonally towards the floor. “Cynthia, we- I still don’t know. We haven’t heard from anyone from Kelemvor’s Snout except you in a few days.”

“A few-“

“You’ve been unconscious for two days.” Another voice spoke up in the room. The other Riverseeker, Daergron, walked into the room and joined the two of them. “Your injuries nearly kicked the bucket for ya, lass. And there’s plenty of people here that wanted to interrogate your unconscious form.”

“... It wasn’t a dream.” Cynthia softly spoke, holding back tears. “Oh gods.”

Suddenly, more forms appeared through the entrance of the med bay, but unlike Daergron and Jinri, their forms were more blurry, and they looked more like pieces of the night’s void. They spoke in whispers, and then wild craze. Cynthia turned her attention away from Daergron and Jinri as she heard unintelligible words coming from the shadows. Some of them decided to ignore the standard rules of the med bay and walked towards her, their rumors and chants becoming more understandable.

“Where is Mordecai?” The void chanted.

“I don’t know. Last time I saw him was in Kelemvor’s Snout.” Cynthia answered, trying to be calm. Meanwhile, Jinri and Daergron tried to persuade the growing crowd of darkness to leave the room. Instead, it persisted and kept speaking to Cynthia.

“What happened in Kelemvor’s Snout?”

“I wish I could answer better. Undead rose out of nowhere and started to invade the area. It was like some sort of living plague decided to come for the swamplands, and it overwhelmed us.” 

The mob of voices began to grow wilder in form, and at some points, the image flickered with the sight of the plague abomination that she had fought in Hundelstone. Their whispers became more insane.

“Did you cause this?” The void asked with malice.

“No? Why would I even think of doing that?” Cynthia snapped back. A flurry of emotions began to control her, and the older Cynthia watching this again wished she could find a way to wake up. 

“Who did, then?”

“I don’t know!”

“How come you’re the only one we’ve seen from there?”

“Mordecai gave me prayer beads that sent me here. I would have died if he hadn’t.”

“Why did you allow it?”

“He didn’t give me a choice-“

“How can we trust you?”

“On Sune I’m telling you the truth.”

The voices pierced her eardrums, causing Cynthia to hear ringing in her ears.

“You’re not even a full Paladin, those words mean nothing to you, do they?”

“I haven’t taken my Oath but that doesn’t change anything-“

“It does.” The voices furiously chanted.

Daergron and Jinri tried to silence the storm of sound with words, but they could barely be heard, “We need you to leave. Cynthia still needs to rest more as her injuries were quite grave, as well as all of the stress.”

The shadows refused to listen, replying with a general response of “We need answers.”

“Your questions can wait-“

“Time is of the essence, Riverseeker’s.” The void said with ignorance.

The questions became more specific and occasionally pointed blame for the incident towards her, and the two Riverseeker’s grew enraged for Cynthia that they would not listen to their pleas.

They tried to twist her words, and some even spoke questions of things that had not happened until Hundelstone, which was jarring for the older Cynthia. However, even the older Cynthia had been become overwhelmed by grief in this nightmare. 

“Please leave.” Cynthia began to respond, her voice soft and broken. 

The voices continued, but their questions grew in collective chants again. In exhausted, emotionally-compromised response to this, Cynthia only kept begging them to leave so she can think.

“Where’s Mordecai?”

“Please leave already-“

“Where is the great Paladin of Sune?”

“Again, I don’t know. Please let me rest-“

“Where’s Mordecai?”

“I-“

“Where’s Mordecai? Where’s Mordecai?”

“I wish he was here-“

“Why isn’t he?”

“I- I told you-“

“Where is he?”

Cynthia finally managed to snap awake from the nightmare, eyes wide and holding back tears. She could feel herself shake in fear, and there was significant pain from wounds that she couldn’t quite recall at that moment. Emotionally and physically aching, she curled into a ball and placed her head in her arms.

“Captain’s awake-“ A voice spoke up, but then caught on their words when they realized that Cynthia wasn’t doing too great. 

Cynthia was able to identify the voice as Paddy, and so she tried to collect herself with little success. She could hear the concern in his voice as she felt a hand shake her gently.

“Cynthia, are you okay?” Paddy spoke.

“Please let me sleep-“ Cynthia caught herself responding out of the instinct that the nightmare gave her. She lifted her head up to look at the artificer close to her. “I don’t know-“

“... I knew I should have tried to wake you when I saw you stirring and mumbling.” Paddy spoke. He looked down at her with a saddened look, and then he reached to give her a long hug.

“It’s okay now, Cynthia.” Paddy assured her, letting her cry on his shoulder for a while. The two of them shared a wordless moment as the artificer tried to help calm her. At one point, Paddy shot a warning glance at Roth who was about to walk into the room. The warlock immediately backed out and closed the door.

“... I should probably get up.” Cynthia spoke up after a few minutes. “No point in staying in bed if I’m awake.”

“I can handle everything you need to take care of-“

“It’s fine, darling-“

Cynthia had a plan in her head to heal off her remaining wounds and start getting things done. It sounded simple enough to her until she tried to activate Lay on Hands, which simply came out as a golden wisp of magic and burnt out instantly. Annoyed, she then tried to cast Cure Wounds on herself, but the same result occurred. She muttered a small swear, but still continued with her plan. 

There’s no way I’m going to be able to go back to sleep after that. Cynthia mused. But maybe I’ll be able to-

Cynthia sat up.

“Cynthia, it’s okay. Wall and I can handle the ship for a while.” Paddy spoke, worry rising in his voice.

Cynthia shook her head and said, “I can handle it as well.” She paused for a moment, bracing herself, and then placed her feet on the floor.

Paddy offered his hand, but she refused to take it.

The paladin stood up.

The dizzying void claimed one more moment with her.

**Author's Note:**

> north gave this a >:OOOOOOOOOO/10 so I think I did a good job  
also gala begs gala to stop writing fic at 5 am but gala does not listen to her own pleas
> 
> also I have to share this exchange north and I had after she read the fic
> 
> northernsong: Today on Gala Smacks Cynthia with Another Baseball Bat  
gala-koi: Twice  
northernsong: Very Hard  
gala-koi: And then Cynthia took the bat and smacked herself  
northernsong: Twice  
northernsong: Very Hard
> 
> This had been something I had thought about writing for a while, or at the least I wanted to discuss my headcanons on what happened during the initial aftermath of the breakout in Kelemvor's Snout. Note that I say my headcanons and not the actual canon. Who knows what Zyarch actually imagined for that part of Cynthia's life. 
> 
> sorry zyarch i had to do it to her  
cynthia needs a beach episode- oh wait. that's the next major fanfic.


End file.
